


if the sky should tumble and fall (darling, stand by me)

by AceMoppet



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Genderfluid Katsuki Yuuri, Other, Sick Victor Nikiforov, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 01:36:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17695133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceMoppet/pseuds/AceMoppet
Summary: Thunder cracks the sky, and it’s immediately followed by a crash in the kitchen. Alarmed, Yuuri grabs their glasses and bolts out of bed, fully awake. “Victor?” they call again, stomach twisting in dread as they get closer to the kitchen. “Are you al-”Words die on their lips as they turn around the corner and see their fiance standing near the counter, trembling and ashy with fright. Victor looks up, licking his lips. “Y-Yuuri?”Or - there’s a storm, there’s a shattered mug, and there’s domesticity.





	if the sky should tumble and fall (darling, stand by me)

**Author's Note:**

> Sup y’all it’s Ace, back at it again with the domestic hurt/comfort. I’m sick, so I decided to make Victor sick and have Yuuri comfort him. 
> 
> In other news, I might not update the next chapter of room’s hush hush this week. School’s been slamming me, and I’m sick, and I’m trying to get my life under control. Did I mention I was sick?
> 
> (Yeah I really hate being sick.)
> 
> Anyways, that’s the biggest announcement for this week. Enjoy your sickfic my dudes.

Yuuri wakes up.

They stretch out, frowning when they only feel sheets under their hands. The sheets are still warm, but the heat is leaching out of them quickly, a sign that Yuuri’s fiance is up. “Vicchan?” they call out, slurring sleepily.

Thunder cracks the sky, and it’s immediately followed by a crash in the kitchen. Alarmed, Yuuri grabs their glasses and bolts out of bed, fully awake. “Victor?” they call again, stomach twisting in dread as they get closer to the kitchen. “Are you al-”

Words die on their lips as they turn around the corner and see their fiance standing near the counter, trembling and ashy with fright. Right by his bare feet lie the remains of his favorite tea mug, broken shards flung helter-skelter across the floor. 

Victor looks up, licking his lips. His eyes are wide and desperately wild, like a spooked deer. “Y-Yuuri?”

Another clap of thunder, and Victor jumps, foot coming down dangerously close to a large shard. 

“Don’t move!” Yuuri yells, wincing as Victor flinches at their tone and backs into the counter, hands gripping the granite so hard that his knuckles turn bloodless.

“Don’t move,” Yuuri repeats in a softer voice, slowly moving past the shards. “I’ll be right back, Vicchan.”

“H-hurry. Please.”

Though their heart aches from Victor’s raw, scraped voice, Yuuri bounds into action once they manage to clear the shards, running to the door and shoving their sneakers onto their feet. Spotless floors be damned, safety is more important.

They’re back at the kitchen in record time. They gingerly clear a path of the shards so that they can get to Victor, who reaches out with a trembling hand. 

“Yuuri,” Victor says, swallowing, “I don’t- I don’t feel so good-”

“Shhh,” Yuuri says, klaxon bells clanging in their head. They place a hand on Victor’s forehead, grimacing at how clammy it feels. “You’re burning up, love.”

Victor leans into their touch, closing his eyes. “Yuuri…”

“... alright,” Yuuri says, trying to stave off their rising anxiety, “Let’s go back to bed Vicchan, and I’ll get you some medicine. Sound good?”

Thankfully, Victor opens his eyes and nods. “Good.”

“Good,” Yuuri parrots back. “I’m gonna lift you now, hold on.” Carefully, they put one hand under Victor’s kneecaps and the other near his shoulders and slowly lifts them up, trying their best not to jostle him too much. Yuuri wobbles, unused to carrying their husband like this in the middle of the night, but they’re nothing if not persistent. When they’re finally steady, they walk away from the wreckage in the kitchen, Victor’s clammy hands and forehead pressed to their neck.

They enter the bedroom, and Makkachin jumps out of bed when she sees Yuuri carrying Victor. She whines, pacing back and forth on the floor as Yuuri comes closer.

“Easy girl,” Yuuri soothes, “He’s okay. Your Papa’s gonna be okay.”

At that, Victor takes his face out of Yuuri’s neck and looks down with unfocused eyes that slowly, but surely center in on Makkachin. “Hey baby,” he says, “I’m alri-”

BOOM!

Victor yelps and buries his face into Yuuri’s neck again, trembling finely. His arms tighten around Yuuri, and Yuuri’s heart aches for this man.

“Vicchan?” they say, “Hey, hey it’s ok-”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m sorr-”

“It’s ok,” Yuuri insists. “Except um, you might have to let go of me. I need to clean up the kitchen, love.”

Victor presses his face harder into Yuuri’s neck and mumbles so low that Yuuri almost doesn’t hear it. “...Please don’t go.”

“Oh, Vicchan,” Yuuri says, softly kissing Victor’s head. “I really don’t want to sweetheart, but I have to clean up the kitchen. Makkachin might get hurt if I don’t.”

“...Ok.”

Slowly, Yuuri lowers Victor down, suppressing a groan of relief as their sore arms are finally freed of their load. In a flash, Makkachin jumps up onto the bed and immediately snuggles into Victor’s arms.

“Good girl,” Yuuri says, softly crooning at her in Japanese. “Take care of him, ok?”

Makka boofs softly as if she understands what they just said and licks Victor’s chin before nuzzling into Victor’s neck. Yuuri smiles, then looks at Victor. “Stay here with Makkachin, alright? I won’t be long.”

Victor looks up at them, wide-eyed and small. “...Please hurry.” 

Yuuri leans over and kisses his upturned cheek. “Of course Vicchan.” Then they leave for the kitchen with tired bones and a determined heart.

They quickly sweep away the shattered bits of mug. Thankfully, there aren’t that many, and after going over the area of the crash at least three times, they dump the shards in an extra strength trash bag, put that bag inside another trash bag, and then they shove that into the trash can. Makkachin has never gone through the trash in Yuuri’s time here, nor has Victor mentioned anything about that, but it’s better to be on the safe side.

They ransack the medicine cabinet next, looking for some Tylenol. Thankfully, the bottle’s full, so Yuuri pockets it and gets a glass of water and two biscuits after a moment of thought. Victor probably has an empty stomach right now, they reason as they take the small plate with them, he shouldn’t be eating Tylenol on an empty stomach.

The storm outside has died down a bit in the time it took Yuuri to clean up and get some medicine and food for Victor. Rain pitters on the roof, a lulling, peaceful sound. That’s good; Victor seemed to be really scared of the thunder earlier. Yuuri wonders why: Victor had never seemed scared of the monsoon season in Hasetsu. He did seem a bit on edge at some of the louder thunderclaps, but otherwise…

Yuuri enters the room, softly padding in, and sets the plate down. “Vicchan?”

Victor looks up, and his expression makes Yuuri’s heart squeeze.

His face is sweaty and pale, a dull bone-white that Yuuri can see even though it’s dark in the room. His eyes glitter with unshed tears, and he looks at Yuuri like he’s trying to cling onto them with his eyes alone. “Yuuri?”

“Oh Vicchan,” Yuuri says, sitting down on the bed gently. They bring their hand up to pet Victor’s head, watching their fiancé close his eyes as their fingers run through his limp hair. From this distance, his eyebags stand out, dark like a bruise against his skin. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

“S’fine,” Victor mumbles, nuzzling into Yuuri’s hand. His arms loosen ever so slightly around Makkachin, who sleeps peacefully at her Papa’s side. “You made sure Makka would be fine in the morning.”

“That, and,” Yuuri leans over to the side table and offers Victor a biscuit, “I had to get some medicine for you. Sit up a bit?”

“Yuuri,” Victor sighs, “You didn’t have to solnyshko. I would have been fine in the morning.” Even though he says that, he slowly lets go of Makkachin and sits up, wincing slightly.

“Why take that risk though?” Yuuri says, handing Victor the biscuit. “You might have been fine in the morning without it, but now you’re definitely going to be fine.”

Victor chews. Swallows. “And if I’m not?” he asks quietly, watching Yuuri as they hand him the other biscuit.

Yuuri pats Victor’s free hand gently. “Then we cancel practice and stay home together. It’s not like there are any urgent competitions coming up anyways.”

“But what if you need your practice?”

Yuuri smiles. “I need you more though. Call me selfish Victor, but I’ll always need you.”

Victor’s hand trembles. “I’m, I’m sorry-“

“Shhh,” Yuuri says, carefully leaning over Makkachin to kiss Victor’s nose, ignoring the whispered protests of Yuuri you’re going to get sick- “I love you. It’s no big deal.”

When Yuuri pulls back, they see how Victor’s eyes, which had dried up at one point, now hold fresh tears once more. “Yuuri,” he whispers, like it’s the only word he can say. “Yuuri.”

“Victor,” Yuuri murmurs back, kissing his nose again and running a hand through his hair, “Vicchan.”

They sit like that for a while, breathing in each other’s presence, listening to the soft pitter-patter of rain on their roof. The moment is everything: it’s quiet, it’s soft, and it’s theirs. 

But eventually Yuuri pulls back. “Ah, you should take your medicine now.” They offer Victor the glass of water first, knowing that before taking any pills, Victor always likes to drink a gulp of water.

“Thank you,” Victor says, slowly sipping the water.

Yuuri watches him in calm fascination. “You good?” they say, when Victor finally stops drinking.

“Ah, yes.”

Yuuri hands over the pill. Once again, Victor takes a gulp of water and quickly pushes the pill in afterwards. Yuuri can never understand why he does that; isn’t it messy, pushing a pill into a mouth already full of water?

Then again, Victor had expressed horror when he first saw Yuuri place a pill on their tongue and chug it down with water afterwards.

“How can you stand the taste?” he’d demanded, nose crinkled in disgust.

Yuuri doesn’t remember their response, but the thought of Victor’s face in that moment is enough to bring a small smile to their face.

“What are you thinking of?” Victor asks, handing Yuuri the glass back. 

Yuuri takes it and places it on the side table before shutting off the light and tucking themself into bed on Makkachin’s right. “You,” they say simply, snuggling in under the covers. “It’s always you.”

Victor blinks rapidly like he’s trying not to cry. “Oh,” he says, in a soft, strangled voice.

“Mhm,” Yuuri says, pulling Victor and Makka closer to them. They close their eyes and hum contentedly, basking in the warmth of their fiancé and their dog. “Good night Victo-“

“I need you too.”

Yuuri opens their eyes in surprise. “What?”

Victor licks his lips. “When uh, when you said you needed me earlier. I need you too. Always.”

Yuuri blinks, and then can’t help themself as they smile. “Oh Vicchan,” they whisper. They lean in and press a soft kiss to Victor’s forehead. “I know. Thank you for telling me.”

Victor leans in closer. “Thank you for taking care of me tonight.”

“Of course,” Yuuri says, feeling drowsy with warmth and love. “Of course.”

And so they lie together, a happy little family, and slowly drift off to sleep with the sound of the rain like a heartbeat in their ears.

**Author's Note:**

> So I know I didn’t explain this in the text, but here are my thoughts.
> 
> Victor hates thunder, and he’s hated it ever since he was a kid. Usually, he can get over it, as Yuuri saw with monsoon season. However, this time he’s sick, it’s the middle of the night, and so he’s a lot more vulnerable to a storm right now. 
> 
> (Thankfully he has Yuuri now.)


End file.
